His Imperfection
by IndieWrites
Summary: Seeing the destruction caused by InuYasha's rage, Sesshomaru begins to discover something about himself, and the little Miko they call Kagome. Canon


**Disclaimer:** I don't own InuYasha, Kagome, or the delicious Sesshomaru. As much as I have tried to bribe with pocky.. they still belong to Rumiko Takahashi

Focusing on Sesshomaru's take of the events during Episode 52. Dialog is taken directly from that episode. Slight OOC  
Reviews welcome, but no flames please. I'm not forcing you to read it after all.

This will be short, comprised of one 3 or perhaps 4 chapters. Originally, it was a one-shot, but I decided to extend it further. Please note this will be a Dark Fict, but it may have a happy ending after all.

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**His Imperfection**

His name meant "Killing Perfection," and he knew it suited him well. Watching him move in his dance of death, he was beautiful. His steps graceful, he moved with precision. Yes, he was perfectly good at killing. It was the undeniable truth; just ask any of his enemies. If you could find any, that is. Considering he had a habit of eliminating said foes, there were not many around who were alive to tell you the tale. He could count on one hand how many he had allowed to escape his deadly claws, and even deadlier whip. Which was good, anyway. He only had one hand as it was. Thanks to his half brother. Lucky bastard, him and his damn overgrown sword.

While he was on the subject… he looked around the bloodied field, the desecrated remains of a band of bandits littered the ground, staining the once green field a brilliant red. Limbs hacked off, head dislodged, it looked like a slasher flick gone very wrong. Only an animal could do such damage. However, in this era, animals took a back seat to the ruthlessness of demons. Moreover, with the jewel shards on the loose, those demons and humans with a lust for blood shed would stop at nothing to obtain one. Power- it was the blinding force that corrupted his world.

A quick whiff of the air around him told him plenty. This blood bath was not the work of a human. It had started as such, he could tell by the corpse of a woman lying at his feet. He toed the body with a look of distant disdain. Mortals were such fragile creatures. It took almost nothing to kill one. And there was no satisfaction in doing so. They moaned, screamed, bled and died. It was all so very annoying in his eyes.

No, this smell reminded him of himself, only different. Angrier, crazier. Completely out of control. It meant only one thing.

"Kagome! Get back!" He heard the Monk cry out. Whirling around lightly, he saw the strange Miko jump aside, her short green skirt flaring out about her legs. She looked disheveled, her hair tangled and her usually pristine white shirt spotted with drops of crimson and brown. It was her eyes, when they flashed over his form, which caused him to pause. They held a look of haunting concern, and swam with unspoken pleas for help. Help for her best friend- his brother. She wasn't even giving thought to her own well-being, stepping in the way of InuYasha's attack, hoping to shield to villagers from his demonic rage.

He had to admire her courage, even if he would never admit it. This was not the first time she had faced down death, he knew. She had stood up against him, even. As she now stood up against his feral brother.

"InuYasha, stop, please." Her voice rang out; her heartfelt pleads falling on deaf ears. With another slash of his deadly claws, her friend killed yet another human. Without blinking an eye of remorse. This was getting out of hand.

Sesshomaru stepped forwards, blocking InuYasha's pathway to the kneeling Miko. He knew killing was necessary at times, but this senseless bloodshed was out side of enough. His brother, while the bane of his existence, was still his brother. And right now, the crazed beast was soiling their family name with the blood of innocents.

"Sesshomaru," he heard the Miko breath out, reading the confusion in her tone. He knew she would not understand. This went beyond human comprehension, the depths of his pride.

Calmly, without a backward glance at Kagome, he took out his sword, listening to the resounding call of Tokijin's power fill the air. It glowed, screaming out it's lust for his brother's blood. He had no real wish to deny it, for that matter. He would love nothing better than to cut down his brother where he stood.

But there in laid the rub. This creature, snarling and slashing its way through the crowds, was not his brother. This demon had no understanding of right and wrong, relying only on its baser instincts. And because of that reason, he could not kill him. That was his only imperfection. His hint of compassion that none, even he himself, knew about.

So he took his stance, waiting for his brother to make his move. He didn't have to wait long. InuYasha, smelling fresh meat on the scene, turned his attention to the white lord standing in the middle of the carnage. The demon stood out like a god among the red painted field. And something in that irked the raging demon.

"Come at me, InuYasha. Let me test you," Sesshomaru invited.

Snarling and snapping like the dog he was, InuYasha flew at his brother, slashing out with his claws, desiring to cut Sesshomaru into ribbons. He certainly didn't need to be asked twice. Letting the powerful sword roar, his brother watched, waiting for the howl of pain that was sure to erupt following Tokijin's surge of destruction. None came. Instead, InuYasha lifted his clawed fist and punched the sword away.

Sesshomaru's eyes widened. What was this creature before him? He didn't pay the slightest attention to the gaping wounds that spurted blood from his arm. Instead, he readied himself for another attack.

Sesshomaru dodged easily, stepping to the side and holding up his sword in defiance. Not to be out done, InuYasha attacked once again, so swiftly that Sesshomaru had to take a step back. Hacking the air around his brother, InuYasha sought to dislodge the skin from his face.

He realized then and there that InuYasha felt no fear, that the creature now embroiling in his blood lust would fight him to the death. A death that would be pointless. Yes, he had promised to kill his brother, but not like this, not as an animal out of its mind.

"Know your place," he said calmly, intentionally side stepping InuYasha's advances once again. He would have to find a way to end this, one way or another. InuYasha, however, had other ideas. Now with his demonic side obtaining free reign, it was not in a hurry to return to its master. As instincts took over repeatedly, InuYasha continued his blind attacks.

For a few moments, Sesshomaru felt an emotion he didn't know existed within him. He was afraid. Afraid of his brothers out of control demonic side. Afraid that he might actually have to kill him in this form. Afraid that he lacked the power to do so. Rapidly taking to offensive, he used Tokijin's power to push his brother back, willing him into submission.

Finally, with a forceful show of lightning from Tokijin's tip, the power of his sword thrust InuYasha back. The hanyou flew a few hundred yards, skidding to a stop in a rut left by his body. Unsure what to do next, Sesshomaru cautiously walk over to his brother's body. As he stood looking down at him, the Miko flung herself in front of him, laying her head upon the bleeding hanyo's chest. Begging, she cried out at him to stop.

Sesshomaru paused. In most situations, he would have killed her for her insolence. After all, she was a lowly human who had just made a demand, not a request, of him. This was punishable by death. Yet his hand stilled as he looked down at her. Ignoring the annoying warning yelled out by her companions, he simply stared down into her brown eyes, full of fearless determination. Again, he had to admit he admire the small woman. She was a fierce warrior in her own right.

Addressing only her, a courtesy he rarely bestowed upon anyone, he told her exactly what to do in order to help her friend. He knew she bore enough intelligence to understand what needed to be done. She nodded in understanding and he turned away, less his face betrayed the emotions he was not supposed to have. Walking swiftly back down the path he had came, he knew his name was becoming less suited for the white lord.

This killing perfection had a few imperfections at the end of the day.


End file.
